The Little Pointless Things in Life
by Nezumi's Cheese
Summary: In which Arthur and Alfred are college roommates, Arthur struggles with his feelings for said roommate, and Alfred is purposely an infuriatingly charming idiot with odd quirks. USUK. College AU. oneshots.
1. Hunger Games Fanboy

So….I have been having writers' block recently but I undertook this little drabble project to help me get back to speed. I swear..after I finish this one, I'll update my other story.

Warnings: human names. University AU. USUK, possible spoilers for the Hunger Games movie (superficially wise), lack of plot, one-shot style.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Hunger Games, or Battle Royale.

/

Hunger Games: _(noun) _the name of a work written by Suzanne Collins that was adapted into a blockbuster movie that Alfred likes a bit too much.

o.0.o.0.o.

_Hunger Games_. Arthur Kirkland is no stranger to the name. In fact, he feels that he hears about it too much. Now, Arthur does not have anything against the book. Frankly, he feels that it's decently written and holds an interesting plot. He's not as critical as Kiku Honda, an avid _Battle Royale _fan, who claims that this book is nothing revolutionary or new. In fact, to him, it is somewhat of a ripoff of _Battle Royale_.

We won't go there.

If there was one thing Arthur hated about the work, it was the annoying effect it had on Alfred.

About two weeks ago, Arthur went to see the movie with Alfred F. Jones, his roommate and friend since high school that he perhaps fancies too much. At least, according to Francis Bonnefoy but pshh, he's a horny bastard and who listens to horny bastard? Anyway, Arthur still remembers that day.

For one, the Englishman took up most of his energy during the movie, hissing at every difference the movie had to the book.

For two, Alfred took up most of his energy, telling his roommate to "shut [his] tea sipping mouth and watch the damn movie."

Arthur thinks the movie must be amazing for people who have never read the book. Alfred, a person who has never taken the time to read the books, thinks it's one awesome movie that totally kicks ass. Arthur considers his point well proved.

Then, there's the dreaded raving.

Arthur does not know why but for some bizarre reason, Alfred feels the need to make it known to the world that he absolutely loves the movie by talking about it constantly. Despite not reading the book.

Every time Alfred says something like "Oh, didya remember that part where Katniss blows up the supplies? That was so cool! Did you, Artie?" Arthur resists the urge to tell him, "There are lots of things I remember about the movie…since I read the books and all, you know."

It should be known that Arthur Kirkland had an infamous hatred and prejudice against people who watch movie adaptions without reading the original books and then proceeding to treat the movie as the greatest thing ever. In his opinion, anyone who thinks that the movie is greater than a book without reading the book is ridiculously biased and deserves to be slapped in the face….with a dead fish.

Then, there is the dreaded pick up lines that Alfred concocted as the product for his avid love for the _Hunger Games…_movie.

Arthur is busy sipping his tea and proofreading Alfred's godawful Literature essay when Alfred experiments with his first Hunger Games pick up line. It must be noted that this was _hot tea_.

"I've received a phone call from Cinna the other day. His star tribute went missing after his makeover….He had blond hair and pretty green eyes…"

Arthur subsequently does something that was a mix between a spit-take and choking. After regaining his breath and swearing at the drops of hot tea splattering his pants, he turns to glare a cheeky looking Alfred. "I knew that my morning was too peaceful and quiet to be real."

Lying on his bed, Alfred merely grins crookedly at him and gives him a thumbs up.

It's the next day when Arthur receives his second pickup line of the day. He's in the cafeteria, hearing about Francis's latest date. Why the _fuck _he was sitting here and eating lunch while hearing what is quickly becoming a squeamish story-squeamish enough to make the prudes faint-still escapes him.

It is then when his roommate drops in from nowhere and pulls out a nearby chair to sit with them.

"Hey, Artie, did you know that the guy who acted as Haymitch is also Tallahassee from _Zombieland_?" Alfred starts happily. Francis rolls his eyes goodnaturedly. He's been around Arthur and Alfred to become aware of Alfred's obsession with the _Hunger Games_.

"You also told me last week that Panem came from the saying, 'panem et circenses.' I told you already, Alfred. I don't care." Arthur replies curtly, dabbing his mouth with a napkin after finishing his lunch.

Alfred, of course, brushes off his beloved roommate's biting tone. "So, I was wondering if you wanna head down to the downstreet plaza with me. There's this cool new comic book for the _Hunger Games_ I saw the other day and-"

"No."

"-little bookstore for unloved hermits like you to thrive in!"

"…" The look on Arthur's face shows that he was clearly offended. Because Alfred is Alfred, he comes up with the perfect solution. Francis knows this and snickers.

"With those smexy killer eyes, I hope your next arrow is aimed at me." the blond responds sunnily.

Arthur's face changes into one of surprise and disgust.

Francis bursts into more snickers.

For the next following days, Arthur is bombarded with cheesy and horrible _Hunger Games _pick up lines.

"Hey, are you Katniss Everdeen? Cuz, girl, you on fire-Oh, fucking, ow! Okay, okay, dude! I'll stop! No, I'm not challenging your masculinity!"

"Is that a loaf of bread in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"

"It's the Hunger Games and I'm hungry for you…"

Then, there's that creepy one that Alfred plants on him before the two go to bed. Propped on one elbow, Alfred turns to Arthur on the opposite bed and musters the most smoldering look he could put on his face. For a second, Arthur blushes at the intense gaze and then…

"I used to watch you walk home every day." Silence. "Everyday."

All feelings of possible arousal or attraction are savagely ripped to pieces and replaced with emotions of unease and the possibility that Alfred F. Jones is truly bloody insane.

However, he never really goes out of his way to stop Alfred from saying those blasted lines.

Now, don't get him wrong, they are all absolutely horrible. Arthur detests them with his whole being. If you don't count the fluttery feeling that he gets in his stomach every time Alfred smiles at him. Despite the utter cheesiness and creepiness of the lines, the affectionate lopsided look on Alfred's face makes up for it. It is utterly adorable and it reminds Arthur of what he liked best about the man.

About a week later, Arthur finds Alfred slumped over on HIS table, drooling on HIS copy of the _Hunger Games._ Complete with snoring. The Brit can't help but smile at the picture.

Alfred's quirks are troublesome and annoying but ultimately, they are endearing.

/

I think…I lost track of the point of this chapter's plot…..Hrmm…what did I just write? Anyway, amongst the pickup lines, there is ONE that was actually in the movie. That's Peeta's line. Oh, Peeta….you and your bread…and your crappy pickup line.


	2. Amnesia the Game

_Amnesia: The Dark Descent _is a horror videogame. It's a first person horror game where you have to run and hide from monsters who may or may not kill you in one hit. You don't need to know much about this game to get what this one shot is about.

Disclaimer: I own neither Hetalia nor the videogames mentioned nor Mr. Tall/Mr. Face.

/

**Amnesia: The Dark Descent: **_(noun) _ one of Alfred's many games that, in Arthur's opinion, should be chucked out a window.

0.o.0.o.0.

Arthur Kirkland hates horror videogames for a number of reasons. They are a waste of time, the culprit behind many people's horrible study habits, and most of all, the effects they deliver on Alfred.

_Silent Hill, Dead Space, SCP-087-B, Penumbra _are some of the games that Alfred heard about from Kiku Honda, his best friend that lives about nine rooms down from them. To Arthur, these games have only one use-being sold to some fat hermit who makes love to his computer in the basement every night. This would be beneficial to both sides of the deal. For one, Alfred can finally pay back the money he stole from him. For two, the fat hermit can have something else to do other than doing his computer.

For all his years of knowing Alfred, Arthur knows that Alfred is a chicken when it comes to horror videogames. Even worst, he's a chicken in _fucking denial_.

Arthur does not know who to blame for Alfred's closet masochistic fetish for such games. Kiku or Alfred?

The horror videogame of the week is _Amnesia: The Dark Descent_. Alfred responds to it how he responds to every videogame he plays. He becomes like the fat hermit. Except he isn't fat and he still keeps his attractive appearance. Usually, when Arthur finds him playing the damn game, he also finds the whole entire room in total darkness, only illuminated by the light shone from Alfred's laptop. The state of Alfred's side of the room is absolutely horrendous. The duvet on the blond's bed is savagely pulled out and wrapped around his body tightly like a cocoon. Alfred is huddling with his laptop on his bed, taking care not to let his feet, or his legs for that matter, come even close to the ground. The blond is hugging his pillow as his right hand robotically operates the mouse. His eyes are hypnotically glued to the screen. The rings around said eyes also indicate that he must have been playing this game the entire day. Then, there's the crumpled bag of half eaten potato chips that are strewn across his bed.

Because he is somewhat of an anal-retentive jerk, Arthur finds the sight of this picture completely disgusting and his hate for horror videogames reinforced.

There are usually two ways Arthur handles hermit!Alfred. The first way is playing the game to quell Alfred's fears. Arthur hates this option because for one, he ends up being an object of ridicule.

"Hahaha, this game is so fun, Artie! You should try it! Here!" Alfred would shove his laptop in his direction and huddle to the other side of his bed with his pillow.

Because playing the game seems like the better option than letting Alfred unconsciously suffer through it, Arthur would plop himself in from the game. For this game, he notices that he is playing as a mentally unstable Englishman in a dark dreary castle located in a once nonexistent country. Wonderful.

Arthur would then turn to Alfred who is sitting about five feet away from the laptop and address him in a dry manner, "Yes, using me as a human shield to psychologically protect yourself? Anything wrong with what I just said?"

Alfred would laugh sheepishly and answer, "Nope, your grammar is awesome, dude!"

Arthur would then proceed to play the game. He quickly finds it fascinating but Alfred ruins his concentration many times with many frequent shouts of "FUCK! It's Mr. Tall!" As a result, Arthur would die many times and become extremely frustrated while Alfred would laugh at his "crappy gaming skills."

Fortunately, Arthur is not forced to do this option too often.

The second way is imitating a security blanket. This is grudgingly Arthur's preferred option. This is also the option he uses to comfort Alfred after he becomes haunted from getting the Bad ending.

Arthur would find Alfred latched to his body and reduced to nearly incoherent whimpers at night. Arthur would sigh as he awkwardly pats his roommate's back. He doesn't mind being in the position, though for the wrong reasons, of having Alfred's arms wrapped around him. However, seeing someone who he thought as a confident and charismatic being reduced to what should be likened to a koala manchild by the power of some crappy horror videogame is truly burdensome. Plus, the sight of this really makes Arthur rethink about his taste in men.

"H-hahahaha! I'm totally not scared, Artie! I just…..I'm just really cold!" Alfred would say some variation of this while frantically clutching onto Arthur.

"If that's the case, would you kindly let me go? I'll get the heat blanket if you're really that cold." Arthur would answer tiredly and makes a move to break Alfred's hold. Alfred's arms immediately tighten in response.

"Dude…you're shaking…why don't you stay here and let the hero protect you?" Ah, there's Alfred's way of saying, "Please don't leave meh, O Great Roommate of Safety and Security."

"Of course I am, Alfred." Then, more incoherent mumbling about heroes would follow. Arthur almost forgets why he puts up with this moron. "Well, while I might be scared, it's fucking one in morning. I'm sure Mr. Face or Alexander will not pop up and murder me at this hour. And I want to sleep."

"W-well, you always have to be on guard, Artie, hahaha!"

"If a monster is going to murder me, please let them do it when I'm asleep and not awake and screaming like a little girl." With that blunt statement, Arthur would elbow Alfred roughly in the gut to break his hold. Then, he would jump off of Alfred's bed and climb into his.

After a few minutes, Alfred would then approach him and with a shaky grin and puppy dog eyes, he would say, "Well, I don't want to find a dead body in the morning, haha! And…it's reaalllly cold in my bed so…can I sleep with you for the night?"

Then, Arthur would sigh and comply and make space in his little bed. After all, refusing Alfred with puppy eyes would be equal to kicking a puppy.

When Alfred manages to settle in Arthur's now cramped bed, Arthur can feel him shaking. To quell this, he would wrap his arms around the other and whisper comforting words to him. At some point, the shaking would stop and they end up falling asleep easily in each other's presence.

Then, for some bizarre reason, Arthur would always wake up to find Alfred's arms wrapped languidly around him instead. It always bothers Arthur of how refreshed and peaceful he feels in the morning when he wakes up with Alfred, compared to when he wakes up alone in his bed.

However, it's not like he's complaining about it.

/

I used _Amnesia _because I know more about this game more than other horror games, save for _Silent Hill_. Well, it seemed more fun to use _Amnesia _as an example though. Oh, Daniel and your British paranoia.


	3. Pet Mochi

Because colleges don't allow any pets above a goldfish.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

/

Pets: _(noun) _what Alfred likes to call, "their children."

0.o.0.o.0.

They were given to Arthur as a gag gift from one of his friends from the sewing and crafts club. Arthur doesn't think much of them when he politely laughs and accepts them. He thinks even less of them when he carelessly dumps them on Alfred's bed, thinking that the blond could appreciate them more than he ever would.

Still, he is somewhat surprised and baffled by Alfred's overly enthusiastic response when he sees them.

What is "them," you may ask?

"D'awww! Artie, your friend is totally cool! Look at these! They're uh….umm…there's a word that Kiku used for this…..oh yeah, mochi! Look at this one, she got my Nantucket and glasses right!" Alfred exclaims, holding one smiling mochi who was made to resemble Alfred-curl, glasses, eyes, and all.

"Them" are the two stuffed mochi that Arthur's sewing partner, Alice, made for him. He cannot fathom the idea why she would make them for him in the first place.

"And they're so squishy too!" Alfred lets his fingers squeeze experimentally around the mochi, laughing in childish delight as it flattens and pops back to its normal size. He then raises the mochi to his mouth and pretended to eat it. "I just want to nom it…"

Alfred's smile becomes even wider when he lifts up the other mochi. This one possesses a frown.

"Oh dear gods, don't even get started on that."

"Dude, they got the eyebrows and your frown right!" Alfred points at the thick eyebrows that were sewn expertly with black thread.

Arthur considers scowling but refrains from doing so, knowing that it will only prove Alfred's point. He settles for a tired look instead. "Well, they're yours. I don't want anything to do with-"

"_Artie! _How can you say such a thing! They're not just mine. They're _ours!_" Alfred declares. He goes on further to say, "Since they don't allow pets here, these mochi can be our pets."

"No."

"Fine, they can be our adopted children." There is so much conviction behind Alfred's answer that Arthur believes him. For a moment, anyways.

Because Arthur does what Arthur does, his natural response to such a statement is to become flustered and let his speech mutate into some unintelligible jargon.

"You-W-what?-We can't have-"

"So, what should we name them? OH! I'll name mine Alfred Jr. Or Al, for short. Aand…." He lifts up the Arthur mochi. "You should be named…Artie!"

Arthur, who's working on his Literature paper during this time, stops typing abruptly. "Oh no, you are _not _going to give a name like _that!_"

To Arthur's surprise, Alfred furrows his brow in temporary consideration. It is not long before he comes up with another name. "Wait, I can't use that name…that's my petname for you….Hey, your middle name is umm…'Ignatius' or something, right?"

"Latin for 'fiery one.' I'm surprised you remembered." Arthur wouldn't mind giving his middle name to a mochi. He rather likes the name. If the mochi is to be likened to him, it should have a regal name like "Arthur." Yes, Ignatius-

"Iggy, it is then!"

Arthur chokes on his own spit at the sound of it. Alfred just effortlessly murdered and reduced a proud sounding name to a name that you would give to a dog in the record of 5.7 seconds.

Arthur berates himself for overestimating Alfred's intelligence. "I am not going to be the father of a mochi named….Iggy."

"Tch, of course, you aren't! You're the mom!"

"Since when?" Now, he is livid.

"Dude, you wear briefs. I wear boxers. I'm pretty sure I'm the one wearing the pants here."

Actually, Arthur goes commando more than sometimes but Alfred doesn't need to know that.

How Alfred isn't able to figure out how wrong that sounds is unfathomable. "Your logic astounds me," Arthur answers dryly.

True to his word, Alfred does end up treating and talking to the mochi as if they really _are _his pets, or children in this case. One day, after his classes, Alfred drops back into his room. As always, he takes off his coat and greets Arthur who is usually reading a book or making tea. This time, however, he also asks about the mochi dolls who are peacefully sitting on his bed. Same old smile and frown.

"How's Al and Iggy doing? Sitting in the same place as usual? Jeez, Artie, you gotta take the kids-"

"Pets." Arthur interrupts before he could stop himself. Like hell, if he's going to accept something emba-

"Aha! So you acknowledge them!"

Alfred only receives a furiously thrown pillow at his face in response. Nevertheless, it's a victory.

The next few days after, when Alfred is busy out with his friends, Arthur is spending his time studying for his Physics exam. Because he is frustrated by the subject (who gives a flying fuck about quantum mechanics?) and he knows that Alfred is passing this class in flying colors (just…just _how?_), he wants to unleash his frustration by yelling at Alfred.

Which is utterly difficult, considering the person he wants to bitch at is absent at the moment.

It is only natural that he takes his rage on the two mochi on said roommate's bed. He places the two stuffed dolls onto his desk and stares at them for a moment. He then pulls out one of his killer glares that he usually shoots at Alfred. Like the model, Al cheekily smiles at him.

"Lucky little bastard…" Arthur grumbles as he tries to read his notes. After a few minutes of aimless studying, his attention wanders off to Iggy who, when placed next to Al, looks like he's frowning at him in shame over something he did. The corners of Arthur's mouth twitches at how accurate the picture portrays his and Alfred's life.

"So, you don't get this happy moron either, huh?" Arthur muses out loud in a casual and comfortable manner. His green eyes widened in surprise at his own statement.

Was Alfred influencing him so much that he's actually starting to talk with them?

Crap.

The next few weeks, Arthur gets used to the mochi. For one, the mochi are good stress relievers, questioning sanity or not. For two, it's pretty entertaining to see Alfred juggling them and randomly screaming "MOCHI!" at random intervals of boredom. At some point, he stops correcting Alfred when refers to the mochi as "their adopted children."

Arthur claims that he's just tired of correcting the term.

Alfred sees it as passive acceptance.

Arthur can live with that.

However, he cannot live with what appears outside his door one day. Alfred discovers it first on his way back from his classes.

"Hey, dude, I found another mochi doll outside our door." Alfred says as he walks in with a mochi in hand and an envelope in the other. He tosses it on Arthur's desk. "The note had your name on it."

Arthur looks at the envelope and recognizes Alice's handwriting. He casually tears open the envelope and takes out the note, glancing through it quickly. _"You seem much more relaxed ever since I gave you the mochi. For one, you don't scowl as much anymore when you're talking about Alfred or other things in your life. You and Alfred must be appreciating them very much. So, I made another mochi for you to complete the little family you have. :)"_

"Complete the little family you have"…? What could that possibly mean-

"Dude, I think we just became grandparents!"

Oh, _fuck _no.

/

*gives Commodore Coolio a mochi.* Go nom on that.


	4. Pester

It was either this or "Preparing Food." Since I wanted to do an Alfred-centric one, I chose this one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Superman.

/

Pester: _(verb) _Alfred's awkward but preferred method of seduction.

0.o.0.o.0.

Yes, Alfred does like Arthur. Not in the friendly way but in the "You'd make a hot Lois Lane to my Superman" way. There's a number of reasons why he likes the man. For one, they're opposites. Alfred's outgoing. Arthur's a hermit. Though, a good looking one. Alfred is daring. Arthur is careful but practical. Alfred likes being spontaneous and out of control (he loves the "WHOOSH" feeling it brings) while Arthur is a man of control and routine. In all, they complete each other.

However, because they're opposites, they have almost nothing in common. Arthur detests all of his favorite foods. Alfred calls Arthur's hobby of sewing "sissy." And so forth. There is absolutely no way for Alfred to start something special with Arthur through a simple conversation. To give you an idea of what he's talking about, this is what happened last week.

"Hey, Artie, so there's this movie that I really want to see….I think you might be interested-"

"If it's that alien movie, my answer is no."

Alfred is really hoping that the saying, "opposites attract" will be true in his case of love because he is unable to ask Arthur to anything that _doesn't _clash with their interests. Then, he remembers how in many romantic comedies, the girl who usually hates the guy at first is often pestered by the guy until at some point, they magically fall in love and live happily ever after.

Not that he ever watches those crappy movies. Nope, not at all.

It's a simple plan enough. Pester Arthur into dating him. Or, the nearest asylum. Whatever comes first. Hmm….seems fullproof enough.

But crap, when it comes to this mushy romance shit, he totally fails at it. Why can't it be easy as "be a hero and sweep Arthur off his feet by literally saving him from a burning building?"

That'd be so awesome.

But Arthur wouldn't exactly appreciate being wooed when he's possibly burning to death in a flaming building. Plus, the burn scars would look bad on his pretty face. He already has those hairy fuckers (still sexy) above his eyes to worry about.

This is why Alfred takes the "pester him into love" method to pass hints onto his roommate. Cuz, at some point, he knows Arthur is going to snap and realize how amazing he is. After all, that's what always happens to the girl in romantic comedies. Spontaneously realizing how much she loves the guy who makes her life a thrilling but living hell.

Again, Alfred has never watched a romantic comedy in his life. Just sayin.

Anyone who knows this can easily say, "Does that mean Alfred was trying to get Arthur's attention this whole damn time?"

The answer to that question is "yes."

It almost scares Alfred how big of a portion this "seduction method" has taken up in his life.

However, he spends so much time with his roommate that he considers it inevitable.

There are many marks that Alfred left on Arthur in his romance pursuit.

Not the good sexual kind, unfortunately.

One mark is on Arthur's phone. One time, he managed to jack the Brit's phone, successfully pissing him off in the process. He was able to hack it easily (seriously, "flyingmintbunny"? _Too freaking obvious_), tinker with it a little, and hand it back gladly at a still pissed Arthur. To this day, Arthur's wallpaper is a picture of Alfred blowing a kiss at the camera with a wink.

That, and he changed his name in Arthur's contact list to "My Smexy Roommate~3".

Alfred knows Arthur tries to hide this fact from him and gets all defensive if he confronts him about it but _damn_, that has to mean _something, _right?

The second mark is on Arthur's face. One thing that Alfred finds extremely amusing is seeing Arthur's right eyebrow twitch every time when he says or does something that the Brit thinks is ridiculous or annoying. It is only fitting that Alfred christens the entertaining eyebrow, "Steve."

Alfred feels even more prideful that no one can elicit an extremely responsive reaction from Arthur like he can. The twitching from Steve proves it. Only he can do that.

Okay, Francis is able to do that too.

…

…But he doesn't make Arthur become all embarrassed and worked up like he does! Alfred's pretty sure that he has seen Arthur blush more than anyone, even Francis.

_What now_, Francis?

Then, there's Alfred's favorite mark. _Nicknames_.

Alfred has two nicknames that he loves to use on Arthur. Artie or Iggy. Two names that Arthur considers as two of the most stupid-sounding names ever to be uttered on the face of the earth.

However, the fact that Arthur never really goes out of his way to stop him from calling him that incessantly proves that he must hold Alfred in some degree of favor.

Alfred remembers one incident that proves this. He once ate out with Francis and Arthur at a restaurant. He remembers wolfing down his food and asking, "Yo, Iggy, pass me the salt?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and passed the dispenser without so much of a care. Francis raised an amused eyebrow. "'Iggy?' What's this about?"

"A stupid annoying nickname that I gave up trying to kill." Alfred remembers Arthur answering with that adorable scowl of his.

"Ah, from your middle name, right? How fitting." Francis then made a dramatic gesture of mock sorrow. "And, yet when I call you 'Sourcils,' you get angry."

Alfred then recalls Arthur aggressively throwing a sugar packet in response. "Call me that again, I'm ditching you with the bill, you frog."

While Francis nursed a wounded look, Alfred spoke up again, asking, "Iggy, just how big is the bill anyways?"

"With the amount you eat, I expect it to be enormous." Arthur responded carelessly.

Still to this day, Alfred feels special.

Sometimes, Alfred feels his patience is tried many times by Arthur's oblivious nature or his annoying habit of automatically assuming that anything he says can and will be used against him. However, Alfred overcomes this quickly when he thinks about the happy endings of the romantic comedies that he…hears about.

That or Clark Kent's struggles with his Lois Lane. Alfred knows he has to be patient like Superman if he's going to successfully badger Arthur into wearing a female journalist outfit for Halloween in the next few years or so when they're dating.

Sure, annoying the person you like is probably the one of the more unorthodox methods of seducing.

Then again, Alfred wants to be anything but predictable.

/

I struggled so much with Alfred's character….gah….I fail.


	5. Yours and Mine

I was busy…playing Pokemon LeafGreen. I found out after so many years, I was still stuck in the same cave. Without a fucking escape rope. Now, I'm trying to commit suicide via wild pokemon. It's sorta hard.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Superman.

/

Yours and Mine: _(pronouns) _Alfred doesn't understand why Arthur makes a big issue out of this.

0.o.0.o.0.

If there's one thing that Arthur cannot stand about Alfred, then it would probably be the man's inability to comprehend what was his and what was not. Sure, it seems like a superficial pet peeve but it just really bothers the Brit for some reason. Arthur can name several instances when this happened.

Like, when Alfred throws himself unceremoniously on HIS bed _five minutes the Brit made the fucking bed_.

Or, when the moron goes through his bookcase without his permission and never even puts the books back. Last time this happened, Arthur found his shelf a mess and his limited edition of _Romeo and Juliet _under a heap of Alfred's clothes. The Brit felt a bit faint when he saw that a page was _dogeared._

That _monster_.

Or, heaven forbid, this scenario:

"Alfred, where are my teabags?"

"Oh. Umm…I might have used it for a chemistry lab experiment."

"…_what?_"

"But no worries, I bought coffee to make up for it!"

Arthur secretly got his revenge when he threw out Alfred's favorite Superman mug. _Nobody_, and he means, _nobody_, touches the tea.

Judging Arthur's stress levels from these frequent incidents, it should be no surprise that he snaps one day.

It happens one lazy Sunday morning. Arthur groggily wakes up and stretches languidly in his bed. He takes a deep breath-oh gods, what is that awful _smell_?

He blinks his eyes blearily to see Alfred touching _his _hot water dispenser and using _his _cup to make himself coffee.

"Mornin,' Artie!" Alfred greets him cheerfully, taking a gulp of coffee from _his _cup.

Arthur narrows his eyes. That was _his _cup and _his_ hot water dispenser. Two objects essential to the Brit's sacred morning ritual-having a cup of tea each morning. And _by gods_, he is not going to let Alfred get away with this. He needs his fucking morning tea.

Alfred notices Arthur's murderous glare at the cup in his hand. He laughs sheepishly and scratches his head. "Well…you know how I am in the morning….and for some reason, I wasn't able to find my mug recently so yeah…hope you don't mind."

Arthur clambers out of bed, giving no heed to how disheveled he looked in the morning. (thank god he decided not to go commando last night.) He trudges over to Alfred. "That doesn't mean you can touch _mine._"

Alfred shrugs nonchalantly. "We've been friends for several years, Artie. What's a little cup borrowing between friends?"

Arthur is still livid. "Alfred, you know me and my tea. Out of all the years you've known me, you should know that this cup is _mine_. Not yours, _mine._"

At his roommate's cranky hissy fit, American begins to become a bit defensive and holds his arms up. "Dude, what crawled up your ass and died this morning? I'll give back your cup when I'm done."

"Do you not understand what the word, 'mine,' means?"

"Uhh…we're roommates, the distinct line of what's yours and mine is obviously going to get a little blurred." Alfred argues back, unable to understand why Arthur was getting so worked up over this. "I think I should be allowed to use your cup if mine is missing for some reason."

"Alfred, you use this excuse for everything you borrow from me without my permission." The other seethes. "And I can tell you this. Even if your bloody mug is missing, that doesn't give you my permission to coat your saliva all over MY cup!"

Alfred's patience levels were beings tested. Alfred only replies back challengingly, "I'll coat my saliva all over your junk as much as I want."

Silence soon ensues between the two arguing roommates. Arthur widens his eyes at the statement, clearly appalled. Alfred realizes what he just said (for once) and turns bright red.

"O-oh fuck, I didn't mean it like that."

Arthur turns his head away in embarrassment. "I…I know."

Alfred sets down the cup with unease. "Let's never speak of this incident again."

Arthur merely murmurs in agreement.

Another few moments of silence follows in between them.

"I'll make sure to ask you for permission from now on, Artie."

The Brit does not answer the American immediately. Instead, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he speaks up again. "I'm sorry I threw out your mug."

Alfred freezes in shock and stares at him, aghast. "You mean…_you're _the one who got rid of Clark Kent! _You monster!"_

Arthur wince internally at the shrill and annoying tone Alfred's voice took. Ah, right, he's still missing his morning tea.

And order and chaos was restored in the universe.

/

Still stuck in a cave….dammit.


	6. Bringing back Disney

YESH, I GOT OUT! So happy.

Shoutout to Commodore Coolio: Consider this my warmup to prepare myself to write that wonky eyebrow idea you wanted me to do. Fuck, how did I even find myself considering that idea…

Warning: what is…I don't even….

For anon reviewers:

I be a bro: Pewdiepie? Geez, I start to watch his videos and now the bros are starting to follow me…I dunno if I'm a bro or not since I only started watching him like…last week. So far, I only watched his Happy Wheels and Ao Oni videos….Commodore Coolio has been pressuring me into watching his Amnesia custom walkthroughs though.

A reviewer: The genre of this story is Romance and General. Who said it had to be funny?

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Disney.

/

Bringing back Disney: _(verb) _why Arthur can't sleep at night.

0.o.0.o.0.

Arthur curses his gifted imagination to come up with the twisted things that had been plaguing his sleep for the past couple days. They've oddly very disturbing. How did they start appearing?

Oh, right. Alfred's bloody Disney Movie Hits CDs

The bastard played the CD repeatedly for the last couple of days on a whim. Arthur was stuck with the task of hearing Disney songs (he did not mind that) accompanied with Alfred's horrible singing (oh _gods, _what kind of terrible noise is that?) for hours.

First song: "Look at this stuff! Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think mah collection COMPLETE-"

"Please shut up, Alfred."

Arthur doesn't think much of it until he goes to sleep. The dream starts off peaceful enough. He's a pirate on the open seas, minding his own business. Suddenly, a horrible storm strikes his ship and he feels himself rudely thrown overboard. He is tossed and turned until he blacks out at some point. The Brit then wakes up to what closely sounds like a walrus dying. He opens his eyes to see a half-naked fish man that eerily resembles Alfred serenading him awake cheerfully and stroking his eyebrows.

The poor man wakes up, gasping and wondering what the hell did his sick mind conjure.

Second song: "A whole new world! A new fantastic point of view! No one to tell us-"

"_Alfred?"_

"…Or say that we're only-Mmph! Artie, you threw a pillow at me!"

That night, Arthur finds himself in a more disturbing world than the one from last night.

For one, he's wearing a pair of baggy teal silk pants with an equally teal vest.

He notices that he's on a balcony and his blood runs cold when he realizes what this scene is.

"Hiya, Artie!" Alfred's voice suddenly rings out as Alfred, clad with the whole Arabian prince getup and turban, appears in front of him on a flying carpet.

Arthur suddenly feels conscious about what he is wearing and crosses his arms, asking Alfred accusingly, "Why the bloody hell am I the girl in this?"

Alfred quirks a confused eyebrow at him. "Beats me. It's YOUR dream, buddy."

Arthur scowls. "Well, fuck, I think I'm having a nightmare."

Alfred chuckles and shrugs nonchalantly. He then kneels down, offering his hand to Arthur. "So, wanna fly on my awesome carpet?"

Arthur looks at it warily. "Is it even safe? Are you a licensed carpet driver?"

"Dude, I'm fucking Aladdin. I grew up in the slums, escaping death by the skin of my teeth. I totally got this." Alfred scoffs and before Arthur can protest, he grabs Arthur's arm and hauls him ungracefully onto the carpet.

Arthur screams and immediately latches onto Alfred as they launched into the sky.

As they soar through the skies, Alfred starts to sing. "I CAN SHOW YOU DA WORLD! SHINING, MURMURING, SPLENDAAAA! TELL MEH…..GENDER-CONFUSED PRINCESS…"Complete with death defying loops that cause Arthur to constantly remind himself that this was just some sick product of his imagination.

After what seems to be an excruciatingly long period of time, the carpet finally hovers calmingly over a pool. It is then Arthur realizes how tightly he's holding onto Alfred. Alfred merely turns back to him and smiles affectionately. "Well, this is the part where I say a romantic cheesy Disney pickup line."

"Oh gods, please tell me you aren't."

"Nah, I figure kissing you would probably be just as romantic." With that, they lean towards another and their lips brush when-

"Ohonhonhon…Getting a bit intimate, aren't we?" a voice that sounded eerily of Francis's. The two looked around in confusion. Then, the voice spoke again. "I am the carpet underneath your perky little bottoms."

Arthur wakes up screaming, causing Alfred to immediately sit up and hold his pillow up defensively.

Third song: "Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase!"

One of Alfred's favorite songs from his all-time favorite movie.

One of the first things Arthur notices in his dream that night is that…well, he's on four legs. That, and he's some sort of jungle. He sees a pool and stumbles his way towards it to look at his appearance. Arthur's green eyes widen as he sees his new lion persona. A sandy fur colored lion with a sandy blonde mane to match. With the same bushy eyebrows-oh, come on, really? He examines and flexes his paws and lets out a low growl from the back of his throat. He fully comprehends that he has been TLK'd.

He twitches his new feline ears to pick up a _horribly _familiar French sounding voice. He hobbles towards the noise source to see a meerkat and a warthog talking. It is then when he sees that the Meer cat was the one speaking. The warthog answers him back in a clearly heavy German accent. Before he can stop himself, Arthur bursts out laughing at the picture, attracting the two's attention.

"Ah, Sourcils, is that you? I can recognize those eyebrows anywhere," the meerkat says haughtily.

"Ha! Looks like you still have your unawesome looking eyebrows!" snorts the warthog.

Arthur lets out a growl. "Why is it that you two are still a pain in the arse in my dream?"

Francis chuckles. "Because you think we are and therefore, we are."

Arthur sighs. "Well, at least, I can get a good laugh at seeing you like this." Francis and Gilbert immediately let out a string of French and German protests. Arthur's satisfied.

"So...what the bloody hell is supposed to happen right now?"

"Since you don't know, we don't know. But, you definitely do not look like a Simba." Francis remarks in distaste. He nudges one of Arthur's slender legs. "Not king material. Too girlish, in my opinion."

"I bet two bucks that Arthur isn't Simba. He isn't awesome looking enough."

Arthur snarls at them and the two immediately step back. It is then when the lion realizes that one, he is a lion and two, they're a meerkat and a warthog. This means: as the top dog of the food pyramid at the moment, he can tear them apart right now. The other two seem to realize this as well and immediately start to run, screaming their heads off. Confident, Arthur chases after them. It doesn't take long for him to catch up to Gilbert. He's about to sink his claws into the bastard until-

"Oomph!" Arthur is tackled to the ground by an unknown force. Frustrated that he can't even kill two people he hates in his dream, he fights back and struggles with the other until he successfully pins him to the ground. He growls in a dominant manner, only to see two confused blue eyes looking back at him.

"…Artie?" Arthur slowly clambers off of him and takes full view of him. Alfred is a lion as well. His fur is lighter in color and his mane is the same shade of sunny blonde that Arthur is accustomed to. His body is bigger than Arthur's and his legs are definitely thicker than his.

This all sums up to one conclusion: Alfred is Simba while Arthur is, _why_, Nala.

"You have got to be joking." Arthur grumbles.

"Artie! Oh my gosh, I thought you were just some beast out to eat the animals who raised me after I ran away!" Alfred yips excitedly.

_Well, that wasn't too off the mark_. Arthur thinks. "Well, I guess I'm not."

"What are you doing here, Artie?"

"Hell, I don't know. It's my dream."

Alfred ignores Arthur and instead nudges his head in the direction of a hill. "Come on, let us gallop and wrestle with each other through that picturesque landscape with pretty romantic music playing in the background." Before Arthur can object, Alfred crudely pushes Arthur towards the hill and they both fall down the slope, tangling in each other's limbs. Arthur, predictably, ends up on top of Alfred. Alfred laughs. "Boy, wasn't that fun, Artie?"

Arthur twitches as the question. "I am not sure. The romantic music," He gestures to the air where a distinct "Can you feel the love tonight" voice can be heard. "Is making me feel psychologically uncomfortable."

Alfred merely ignores this remark and instead licks Arthur's cheek affectionately, making the other blush. "Wouldn't you like to stay here with me, Francis, and Gilbert?"

Arthur immediately looks ill at the idea. "Oh _gods_ no. You're really a king and I think you'd be better off taking your place as that than spending your days under bad influences like them.""

Alfred immediately gets emotional. "B-but…I killed my…"

"I'm just going to go ahead and ruin this tearful scene for you. Get your ass back to Pride…Hill and beat…your uncle or whoever told you to run away after your father was killed. He's the one who killed your father."

For the sake of movie's plot, Alfred subsequently gasps in an uncharacteristically dramatic manner. "You mean…Ivan killed my dad? That bastard!"

Arthur facepalms…paws…himself. "Ivan…of course."

Arthur wakes up from this dream and rubs his face tiredly before going back to sleep, promising himself never to go out drinking illegally again.

Fourth Song: "We will stand by your side, filled with hope and filled with pride! We are more than who we are! WE ARE OOOONNNNNNNE!"

The subsequent dream that happens that night probably scares Arthur the most, even more than the Aladdin one. In this dream, Arthur is back to being a lion. What's different in this dream is that Alfred is now king of Pride Rock.

"I am king!" Alfred crows.

"Yes you are." Arthur grumbles.

"And you are my queen!"

"Again with your gender confusion fetish?"

"Nope, that's just you!"

"Why you little-"

"And these are our children!"

"Wait, what?"

Alfred grins and steps back to reveal two lion cubs. "Iggy and Al!"

"Mama!"

Arthur wakes up in cold sweat, yelling out every British swear foul to man. Alfred, who is sleeping in the opposite bed, wakes up as well, asking what's wrong. "Dude, what happened? You're scaring Iggy and Al!" He digs out the two mochi nestled against him in his bed. The Brit is immediately terrified.

"Oh _gods_, get those bloody things away from me!"

/

Hopefully, I didn't kill too many of your braincells with this crack.


	7. Doing Him a Favor

Commodore Coolio: I'm trying to look for that eyebrow prank thing but I seriously can't find it. Hurghh…..crack processing mode is being overwhelmed. I'm working on it.

Let's tone down on the crack levels a bit, shall we? As much as I enjoyed doing the last chapter, I felt that a portion of my braincells went out partying last night and are now stranded in a ditch somewhere.

Warning: bad massage cliché. Rip this idea straight out of a romantic comedy movie. I am so sad.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

/

Doing him a favor: _(verb) _Something that Matthew Williams does not want to get involved in.

0.o.0.o.0.

Hearing the Brit sullenly cursing things under his breath, Alfred can see that Arthur is pissed. Hearing the Brit sullenly cursing things that are barely comprehensible, Alfred does not know why.

Therefore, drawing from his extensive knowledge of the Brit, Alfred deduces that the Brit was suffering from excessive stress. Stress from his journalist paper and failing his Physics exam, to be exact. Especially the latter.

Symptoms of this stress include cursing at every object or person that comes to mind and expressing the desire to kick puppies at said objects or people. It is not a pretty sight.

Drawing again from his extensive knowledge of the Brit, Alfred deduces that the best solution for this problem is to let the Brit blow off some steam.

Alfred sits lazily in his bed with his laptop as Arthur sits at his desk, practically drowning in his foul mood. Then, suddenly, Arthur lets out this horrible yell and turns to Alfred angrily.

"Why are you such a happy pile of bollocks today?"

"Because I am?" Alfred merely answers, playing League of Legends idly on his laptop.

Arthur snarls at him in response. "Your face is a pile of bollocks!"

"And your mother is too, Artie."

"Your whole entire body is a pile of bollocks!"

"Thanks, I like to keep myself shiny and bollock-ish, just for you."

With that, Arthur stood up in a rage. "My life is surrounded by a pile of bollocks! Especially, fucking Physics 101! Gods, why did I even take the stupid class?"

"Because this college required it?"

"Yes, this college is a pile of bollocks!"

The American sighs. "Right."

"Why does everything in my life have to be a pile of bollocks?" With that, Arthur lets his head drop and smack into wooden desk. Alfred winces and gets up from his bed.

"Dude, you're working yourself out too much. Let it go and do better next time."

"You don't understand! I can't…I can't…my grade in Physics…" Arthur suddenly breaks into incomprehensible curses and grips his desk tightly in rage. The Brit feels a hand placed on his shoulder.

"Artie, are you even aware of how tight your shoulders are right now? Not very healthy, you ask me. Stress always leads to an early death." Alfred says in concern and places his other hand on the Brit. "Come on, pull yourself back up from this desk. You can do it."

"To hell with you, Alfred. Leave me be here and-_ah, oh gods, my…damn it…._" Arthur whimpers as he feels Alfred's firm hands squeezing his shoulders and _gods_, it feels bloody _amazing_.

Alfred, on the other hand, widens his eyes like a deer in the headlights. Just one simple massage gesture like this could reduce his roommate into well…an Arthur persona that usually resides twenty leagues down in the back of Alfred's mind (except the Brit still had his clothes on)? _Damn…_"…dude, when was the last time you got laid?"

"Urgh…it's not like that, Alfred. Stop squeezing my-_ahh…you…gods, don't you dare stop."_

As he firmly pressed into his roommate's shoulders, Alfred's mind takes a few seconds to process what could be one of the most wanton and dirtiest sounds he has ever heard.

And Alfred, being friends with someone like Kiku AND in love with the person making these noises, has all rights to say so.

_Damn_...

Then, because Life likes to place her humans/playthings in awkward situations, the two hear a door knock when Arthur lets out a loud and incoherent moan.

The two freezes and it isn't until Arthur hisses and gets up from his chair. Alfred notices that his shoulders aren't tense anymore.

The Brit skulks down to the door and pulls it open irritably, already missing the American's touch. He is sincerely hoping that it isn't Francis who knocked.

To his relief, it wasn't. Instead, he sees a carbon copy of Alfred looking a mixture of being very embarrassed and disturbed. Arthur immediately panics.

"What brings you here, Matthew?" he starts calmly, trying to stop from screaming out, "We were DEFINITELY not doing anything!"

"Yo, Mattie!"

Matthew awkwardly shifts his weight between his feet and looks at the ground. "Well…I wanted to ask for my Psychology textbook back but umm…I can sorta see that you and he are…busy."

"…How long were you outside?"

"About five minutes. I knocked twice but you guys didn't hear me."

Arthur looks positively scandalized. He forces out a laugh. "We… weren't doing anything. No worries."

Matthew's violet eyes swiftly take in his brother's roommate's appearance. Wrinkled shirt…top button unbuttoned…hair all ruffled….The Canadian finds it difficult to believe his statement.

"I…I never said that you did." Matthew says, wavering from being traumatized and a bit disgusted. "Who am I to judge who my brother is with….I'll…I'll just come back later then…"

Alfred comes up behind Arthur. "Hey, Mattie, it's not like that! Dude, I can give back your book right now!"

"I rather not intrude, Alfred." Matthew mutters before turning and walking away, ignoring the two's protests.

The two roommates stare into the direction that the Canadian walked away silently before Arthur slowly closes the door.

"So…your brother thinks we're dating…sleeping with each other, to be exact. Lovely topic to discuss over a family reunion." Arthur starts dully in a resigned tone. He glares at Alfred who looks just as uncomfortable as he. "Don't do what you just did without asking me."

"I just wanted to help you…" Alfred answers apologetically.

Arthur's glare softens and he sighs. "I know, Alfred…."

The two are silent. Alfred looks for an icebreaker.

"…Seriously, dude, when was the last time you got laid? It sounded like you were having an orgasm or something." Alfred starts casually, laughing sheepishly.

Arthur stares at him for moment.

"…what?"

Arthur promptly punches him.

Alfred is left with a swollen bruised jaw, moaning in pain. Arthur coldly ignores him.

/

So…clichéd misconceptions for the win! Just as a note, pent up UST and stress is not a good combination. Throw or yell at something to get rid of it.


	8. A Prank

Warning: Yes, this story is about a prank…the painful prank of ripping out someone's eyebrows with duct tape…umm…you can sorta guess what's going to happen to Arthur.

This was written solely for the amusement of me and Commodore Coolio (no ass socks here)

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Avengers or Captain America or Battleship or Marvel.

/

**Prank**: _(noun) _One of the many things that test Arthur's ever so godly patience.

0.o.0.o.0.

Alfred loves a good prank. Pranks are practical for relieving Alfred's boredom. They promise rewardingly hilarious results and Alfred can never get tired of them.

You see, Alfred is planning to throw a prank on Arthur for two reasons. One, because he feels like it and that is what the "annoying wanker" of this room does on a daily basis. It's his job. Two, Alfred agreed to a dare.

The other day, Alfred was having a lovely chat with Gilbert, an upperclassman (renowned drug and ticket dealer on campus. He's a real nice guy to talk to over coffee, though.)

"_So…how would you like to buy an exclusive ticket to be one of the five people to hang out with Chris Evans for the day?"_

"…_are you pulling my leg, dude?"_

"_He's gonna be acting as Steve Rogers, golden boy."_

"_For realz?"_

"_For the whole day, kesesese. Look at this ticket! It was a bitch to rig the raffle drawing…"_

"_OH MY GAWD, YOU DID! GIMME!"_

"_It isn't free, golden boy."_

"_Dude, I'd give anything to have that."_

"_Nah, even selling your soul won't cut the cost for me. Just do one thing for me."_

"…_Uh dude, no offense and all, I don't really…like you…that-"_

"_What, no! I want you to give me…entertainment. Particularly from that angry Eyebrows guy."_

"…_what? Dude, I told you. I don't swing that way."_

"_Right, right, of course. But that's not what I meant! Pull a prank! A prank that he and this school will never forget! I'm bored and apparently, Arthur got into a nice long hard game of Battlefield with one of my best friends. He won and rubbed it into my friend's face, in front of his boyfriend and classmates. And now, Toni's all depressed and wants revenge. So, as one of his closest chumps, it's my responsibility to regain his honor…think you can do it for me?"_

"…_and I get the ticket if I do?"_

"_Yup, no strings attached. You just have to do one little prank on your roommate."_

"…_for the ticket?"_

"_Yes, for the ticket. Now…this is the prank that I want you to do…"_

Which is why Alfred was hovering over Arthur's sleeping body with a duct tape in hand. He's a bit nervous because fuck, he never went this far with pranks before….and he really thinks that Arthur does not deserve this….even if he was sort of an asshole and humiliated some upperclassman in front of his class with a boardgame.

But…the golden ticket to meet Chris Evans…no, Steve Rogers…

Alfred would kill for that ticket.

Besides, Arthur's eyebrows are magical. They'd grow back after a couple hours…right?

Holding his breath, Alfred takes a strip of duct tape and cuts two pieces. Gingerly, he then places the two strips of duct tape on Arthur's forehead, taking care to make sure that they stayed on and that Arthur did not wake up.

Alfred bites his lip. He got this. He already has an escape plan. He hopes with all his heart that in the end, that ticket will be worth all the trouble and that Arthur's eyebrows will grow back really, really soon.

_Well, here goes nothing. _

And he pulls.

0.o.0.o.0.

Matthew yawns and wakes up from bed, stretching to prepare himself for another day of classes. He swings his feet over his bed and gets up to-

The Canadian is rudely awakened from his daze when he finds his face planted into the floor after he tripped over something.

Matthew frowns as he sees Alfred's suitcase dumped unceremoniously at his feet. Seeing it, he wonders what his brother did-

A horrible bloodcurdling scream erupts through the campus.

The Canadian is spooked as It echoes throughout the college. Then…

"ALFRED, I AM GOING TO BLOODY MURDER YOU!"

Ah. That's why.

0.o.0.o.0.

"Oh, Sourcils…not everyone needs to receive a wake-up call from your horrible screaming. Oh, don't just slam the door open like-_Mon dieu_, what happened to your…your…Pfft…." Francis is confronted with the sight of Arthur with two bright red strips of irritated skin over his eyes.

"Not a word, frog. Not one bloody word."

"…Alfred quite undid himself this time, hasn't he?"

"The sneaky little bastard fled the scene through the fire escape. The fucking fire escape. Gods, my eyebrows are throbbing…"

"…mon ami, you don't have any-"

"Shut up…I can't believe I'm asking this but…may I borrow your black eyeliner?"

"Seeing you in possibly a more hideous and pitiful state than usual, I'll oblige for the sake of the eyes of our peers and me. And…how do you know I have eyeliner?"

"You're a flamboyant frog. It's so obvious."

0.o.0.o.0.

"Not that I don't want you to but why are you walking with me today, Alfred?" Matthew asks as his brother grabs his arm and presses himself against him. The Canadian ignores the odd looks in the hallway, eager to get to his first class.

"I don't want Arthur to see me…He's gonna kill me and…and cut up my limbs…and use them as fertilizer for his garden…" Alfred whimpers, pressing himself to his brother's back. "I'm thinking that since many people don't see you, if I hang around with you, they won't see me either!"

"Thanks, Alfred, thanks." The Canadian rolls his eyes but continues his way, knowing that as long as Arthur is hunting for his brother's head, Alfred will not budge at all.

"For the ticket, for the ticket, for the ticket, for the ticket, for the ticket…" Alfred chants frantically, clutching to his brother's sleeve.

"What are you saying-" Matthew turns at a corner when he accidentally collides with someone. The two brothers stumble a bit.

"Ah, there you are, love. I've been looking for you all day." Arthur coos calmly in Alfred's direction, ignoring Matthew completely.

"H-haha! Hey there, Arthur! See you have a….new sexy eyebrow look, going on! It's really…." Alfred starts nervously, clutching tighter to his brother's arm. His blue eyes dart frantically to avoid Arthur's unnerving smirk of death.

In the calmest fashion a gentleman can speak in, Arthur ignores Alfred's rambling and says, "You are going to die."

Alfred shrieks and shoves Matthew into Arthur before sprinting into the other direction. "Here! Take him! He looks like me! I don't want to be fertilizer!"

The Brit pushes Matthew off his body and gets up to his feet, dusting off his pants. "Your brother's days are numbered."

"Umm…Arthur."

"Oh, sorry, let me help you up."

"No, it isn't that but…your eyeliner is smudged."

0.o.0.o.0.

"Alfred, you do know you cannot keep hiding from Arthur forever, right?" Matthew sighs, stabbing his plate full of pancakes absent-mindedly. He really hates Alfred when he's in his "scared koala manchild" mode. At the rate that Alfred is going with his whole "grab onto Matthew so I can gain magical invisibility powers" method, Matthew predicts a _shit _load of ironing. Urgh…

"I'm…I'm not hiding! I'm just…spending some quality family time with you." The American pats his brother's head nervously. He lets out a little gasp before ducking underneath the table when he sees Arthur enter the cafeteria.

"Hola, amigo. Qué pasó con sus…Pfft. Haha, whatever happened, you look like…una idiota." A tan Spaniard calls out in a smug tone with a laugh before gasping for air when his boyfriend punches him in the gut when Arthur passes by.

Arthur stops in front of Antonio and puts on a predatory grin. "C5…"

Antonio's grin vanishes.

"C6…"

"Oi, you eyebrow bastard, don't go-"

"C7, C8, C9, C10."

Antonio pales. Arthur smiles smugly and leans close to Antonio's ear. "…Sunk."

The Spaniard is at loss for words for a moment before bursting out into a wail. "Mi…MI ARMADA!"

Arthur watches calmly as Antonio runs out of the room in tears with his boyfriend trailing after him and swearing every foul curse known to him. The Brit then turns to the cafeteria.

"Alfred, I know you're here. Just to let you know, you're next."

Matthew is calmly eating his pancakes when he suddenly chokes when he feels his brother lock around his torso in a vice grip.

He's busy trying to control his gag reflex when his brother blubbers to him, "…don't let him take me."

0.o.0.o.0.

Over the course of four days, Matthew has received many things to his door.

They include: one shredded Marvel poster, the head of a Hulk figurine taped to his door, and several copies of the chart of the clubs' stats for this month. According to the chart, the Club of Mother Russia has two more members than the Patriotic Coalition.

It almost pains Matthew to see part of his brother die at each blow. He silently watches his brother mope around on his roommate's-Feliciano-bed.

"Why can't you just apologize, Alfred?" Matthew asks for the umpteenth time.

"I…I can't! That will be suicide!"

Matthew rubs his temples wearily. "I'm still having trouble, comprehending that you willingly sacrificed your roommate's eyebrows for an exclusive ticket to hang out with Chris Evans-"

"Steve Rogers."

"-Steve Rogers for the day. Look, if you want Arthur to stop…torturing you, apologize, explain what happened, and tell him that your friendship with him is worth more than a day with…Steve Rogers."

Alfred merely whines louder in response.

Then, the door knocks. The Canadian sighs as he brings himself to the door, wondering what Arthur has conjured up this time for poor Alfred. He pulls his door open, only to see a…well, he's not really sure what it is.

"Alfred, come here."

Alfred rubs his face on his sleeve before dragging his feet to the door. He zeroes in on the object that Matthew was looking at. He lifts up the plate and sniffs it, wincing at the foul smell. He scrutinizes the object before dumping it into Matthew's hands.

"It's a burger."

"I don't think burgers are supposed to be this color…"

"Matthew, I think Arthur is trying to poison me."

0.o.0.o.0.

"Oh, bollocks! He didn't eat the burger? He _knew_? But I hid the laxatives in the meat so well!"

"Mon cher, I don't think he knew it was poisoned from the laxatives…"

0.o.0.o.0.

After a week of urging and suffering from Matthew and Arthur, Alfred finally decides that it is in his best interest that he apologizes to Arthur today.

Two vintage posters did not have to die so needlessly for a ticket.

Alfred trudges up reluctantly to his door and lets out a deep breath. He clears his throat and knocks on the door. He braces himself when the door opens to reveal his roommate. Alfred internally winces at the fading red strips above Arthur's eyes. On the bright side, he does a bit of hair growing amongst the eyeliner.

"Oh, it's you. If this is about your Marvel posters, you deserve it and I'm not going-"

"I'm sorry." Alfred blurts out.

"-and I know this-wait, what?"

The American shoves his hands in his pockets nervously as he forces himself to meet Arthur's surprised gaze. "I'm sorry…for the whole eyebrow fiasco and stuff…"

Arthur stays silent.

"I did it because…Gilbert was selling me a…" Alfred fishes the golden ticket from his pocket. "Pass to hang out with Steve Rogers for the day...I know…I know…why would I choose Captain America over your eyebrows?"

The Brit narrows his eyes. "Are you screwing around with me?"

"No, no! I mean, I shouldn't have done that-"

"You're bloody right about that. In fact, I should make you grovel at my feet for what you done to my-Oh my gods, what are you…"

"Well, you said that I should grovel at your feet for forgiveness-"

"Get up, you look like a fool! Ugh, come in." Arthur quickly pulls Alfred to his feet and drags him into the room. Alfred is relieved to see that his side of the room is relatively the same.

"So, you're apologizing?" Arthur starts, crossing his arms.

"Yeah." Alfred winces at Arthur's unconvinced look. "Look, I'm so sorry that I'll even rip this ticket into pieces if I have to. See?" Ignoring the excruciating pain of his soul being ripped apart, he slowly rips up the ticket and lets the pieces flutter to the floor.

Arthur's eyes follow. "…You really do mean it."

Alfred swallows painfully. "Of course. My relationship with you is worth more than Captain America."

After a moment of silence, Arthur sighs. "…Alright, I'll forgive you this time."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's not every day that you express regret for your actions by ripping up one of the five exclusive passes in the world to apologize to me."

"Yeah, I'm just special like-Oh my gods, I really did destroy my once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet Steve Rogers…"Alfred pales and starts to sway.

"Oi, Alfred, are you okay? Hey, are you…are you going to fain-Oomph!"

Arthur is almost unceremoniously crushed by Alfred's sudden dead weight.

"Oi, Alfred…oh, bollocks, my eyeliner smudged again!"

/

So…how did you like that, Commodore Coolio?


	9. You Know, It's Sort of Obvious

First of all, happy belated birthday to America! I went out with some friends. We ate brownies (well, THEY ate brownies. I am not a chocolate person.), fooled around with some sparklers, and sat in some lawnchairs in one of my friends' backyard to watch the fireworks. It was a pretty awesome time.

Second of all, AX was, on so many levels that it's unfathomable, awesome. I went on Day 2, 3, 4 with Commodore Coolio and a bunch of our other friends. If you went on Day 4 and you saw a drunk!England playing monkey in the middle with an America and a Russia, that was probably me. If you saw an America being a jerk and tossing a crudely made Ale beer bottle, that was probably Commodore Coolio (Commodore Coolio: Yo, Russia, go long, GO LONG! ).

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Adventure Time (I don't care. I just had to put an LSP quote in here.)

/

_You Know That It's Sort Of Obvious: _(noun) "…that you like him."

0.o.0.o.0.

Arthur does not know much about the Hungarian girl who sits behind him in his GenChem class but he is content with just that.

She is the president of the Newspaper club, the top reporter (penname: 'Hungary').

She is also the type of person who is so powerful and prominent in the politics and social workings of college society that she is worshipped as an eminent holy being.

She should not be trifled with, obviously.

He should have known something was up when Elizaveta saunters up to him one day after class with a tape recorder and says, "Hey, I would like to interview you for my gossip column."

"If it's about Francis, yes, I do honestly believe he is laced with STDs."

"Haha, that's funny but no, that's not why I'm here. By the way, I did a bit of research on that rumor. Turns out that he's clean."

Arthur frowns and zips up his bag. "What are you asking, Elizaveta?"

Elizaveta slides in the seat next to him and swiftly plugs in her mike to the recorder. She clears her throat as she presses play. "This is the interview with Arthur Kirkland for 'Hungary's Gossip Column.'"

Arthur has no choice but to sit down as well to be respectful.

"So…rumor has it…"Elizaveta pauses dramatically. "You're in love with Alfred F. Jones."

"…" Arthur was silent for a moment. "Elizaveta, I think you're a lovely lady. Being an active president and keeping up your grades must take a lot out of you…You obviously need to rest and-"

"Kirkland, I am dead serious. You and Alfred are believed to be an item to the point where my interns started making bets on who tops," Elizaveta cuts him off solemnly before slapping a hand on the table with a smirk. "I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure that I found gossip gold."

Arthur sighs and leans back in his seat, lacing his fingers together. "I didn't know being interviewed included being interrogated."

"Kirkland, everyone knows that admittance is the first step. It's elementary," Elizaveta replies haughtily, shooting him a withering look to kill the protests on the other's tongue.

"…why do I feel like I'm being pushed to admit a crime of some sort?"

"Sweetie, I never said I was a conventional reporter. You know, it's sort of obvious that you like him. The way you act around him and how you talk to him-"

"I don't have time for this calumny. I'm leaving," Arthur states dismissively, throwing his shoulder strap over his shoulder. He ignores Elizaveta's frantic protests.

"I mean it, Kirkland! If you want him, YOU GOTTA PUT A RING ON IT! WHERE'S HIS RING? GET IN TOUCH WITH YOUR FEELINGS, ARTHUR!"

0.o.0.o.0.

Kiku shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he watches his best friend wolf down what can feed a family of three for four days. The Asian has no wish to ask his friend awkward questions about his love life, but, for the sake of his job, he must. Elizaveta gave him specific orders to wheedle out a confession and some juice out of the American in hopes that the other half of the USUK (an endearing pairing name created by Elizaveta's minions/interns) would be more stupid to give her something to work with.

Plus, Kiku did enjoy the enormous profits he made at the impromptu auction Elizaveta held for his crude doodles of the two that he made during a boring mission meeting.

Also, he would be lying if he said that they did not look good together.

Then, again, he did entertain himself with the idea that the enmity between Arthur and Francis was really just pent-up sexual tension for a while.

_Oh, dear, I have to stop jumping to such perverse conclusions about my friends_. Kiku slaps himself.

"Uhh, dude, you okay? You just slapped yourself," Alfred points out as he wipes his ketchup and mustard covered mouth with a napkin.

"Um, no. I'm fine. I'm just..going to ask you a few questions for this week's gossip column, Alfred-kun," Kiku replies sheepishly, taking out a notepad and a pen.

"Ain't you a photographer?" Alfred scrutinizes the Asian, puzzled, before shrugging dismissively. "Eh, well, whatever. Shoot."

Kiku feels truly blessed for Alfred's short interest span. "…It's about your…relationship with Arthur-san."

"Huh…okay, then."

He glances at the first question on his notepad that Elizaveta had written down for him. _How did Alfred meet Arthur? Was it love at first sight? _"…Elizaveta-san really likes to talk about the personal things of interesting people's lives. I suppose you caught her interest."

"Aww, really? You can tell her I'm flattered!"

"Anyway, how did you meet Arthur?"

Alfred grins mischievously. "Freshman year in highschool. In the park. An incident involving a playground tunnel. I'm gonna leave it there. Artie doesn't like being reminded about it."

_An incident that neither of them will tell to anyone...a tryst of some sort? No, it's probably nothing. _Kiku quickly scribbles down Alfred's answer. He flips his notepad and he soon notices most of these questions involve the two's love life, rather than their friendship. He blushes at some of them.

"Do you two have a…tendency to stay up late at night?"

"Umm, sometimes. Usually to watch Artie fail at video games. He sucks balls at it."

"Do you two ever share food with each other?"

"Eh, no, not really. I don't dare touch what he cooks up, and he's totally prejudiced against burgers."

"If someone was…trying to steal Arthur away from you, what would you do?"

"Pfft," Alfred cracks up. "Who'd wanna kidnap that stuck-up jerk? I still love the guy, though."

"…I apologize if this question seems awkward but…top or bottom?"

Alfred frowns pensively. "Uhh…bottom, I don't know. It's been some time since I slept in a bunk bed, but if it's really important, Arthur is always the top ,"He makes a face. "Jerk."

The American has a faint feeling of dread that he said something terribly wrong when he sees how red Kiku's face suddenly gets.

This banter continues for the next couple of questions with Alfred blissfully unaware of the double meanings that some of these questions hold. "Alfred-kun, this is my last question. I'm sorry if it seems a little awkward but how long have you harbored romantic feelings for Arthur Kirkland?"

Even an idiot can see what that question means.

Alfred chokes on his drink and punches his chest to regain his breath. "Wha-what? Dude, what are you talking about?"

Kiku clears his throat in discomfort. "You know…it's sort of…obvious that you…like him."

Alfred bursts out into forced laughter, laughter that is eerily reminiscent of the one that Alfred uses when he denies his fear of ghosts.

The way that the American laughs and denies it profusely confirms Kiku's suspicions.

Alfred likes his roommate and is painfully aware of his feelings.

However, looking at how hysterical Alfred is acting, it is clear to Kiku that he will not be wheedling out a clear confession any time soon.

Therefore, despite the triumph of confirming something so blatantly obvious, Kiku does not have hard evidence to write USUK as a legit pairing. Neither Alfred nor Arthur agreed to it and because they did not, they can potentially sue him for libel or something.

Oh, Elizaveta is not going to be happy.

0.o.0.o.0.

"Well, it's not as good as a story, and I bet most of the people on this campus do not even know who Arthur Kirkland or Alfred F. Jones is but it is still bound to be popular," Elizaveta sighs as she types up her gossip article of the week.

"Arthur-san is going to accuse us of slander."

"Aww, don't worry. It's just a poll. We're not stating explicitly that they're a couple. We're merely implying it," Elizaveta pats his shoulder in an assuring manner. "Look, I even hinted that they're not a couple here," She points to her computer screen. "Even if we are probably breaking some law, it'll be too popular for people to protest."

"I hope you're right. I'm sorry that I was not able to obtain what you were looking for."

"Eh, no biggie. At least, now you have new ideas for our club fundraising auction, right?"

Kiku flashes a small pleasant smile. "Yes."

0.o.0.o.0.

"_Rumor has it that freshmen Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland are in a relationship…This one was a tough one to crack and neither side is willing to give us an explicit answer. So, let us see if you, Hetalia World College, can succeed where we fail. Vote now at the official HetaliaNews website to offer us some of your opinions of what you think is the bond between these two lovely men. Are they:_

"_Yes, Arthur tops."_

"_Yes, Alfred tops."_

"_Yes, they switch."_

"_Yes, but they are secretly seeing other men."_

"_Yes, but they just don't know it."_

'_Yes, but just for the sex."_

"_No, because I am obviously blind to their blatantly obvious desire to shag each other onto the nearest horizontal surface. Please, O Great Hungary, cleanse me of my impurity."_

Arthur and Alfred stares at the article in silence, each haunted by their interviewer's words.

_You know, it's sort of obvious that you like him_.

"I need to report this to the principal." Arthur announces bluntly, walking briskly out of the dorm and leaving his roommate alone.

Alfred's eyes are still glued to the screen in disbelief. "…Kiku, dude, you are one sick bastard."

0.o.0.o.0.

A week later, the poll is taken down, much to Elizaveta's anger and Arthur's relief.

Ironically, it was taken down because someone hacked into the poll and added another choice that ultimately became the most popular one.

"_I don't give a flying shit because I couldn't care less about these two fucktards' love life. Plus, I rather bask in the awesome glory of the blog of Prussia the Awesome than this gossip trash."_

/

Just for the record, I support USUK more than I support UKUS but I doubt you have to worry about that since I do not plan to put sex in this story anytime soon.

Yes, I really do believe Elizaveta would make a terribly good reporter. She's aggressive and good at getting what she wants. And I cannot shake off the idea that she has some minions or disciples that are trying to follow in her footsteps. YOU KNOW THEY EXIST.

As for the LSP reference, screw you. Adventure Time is the shit.

Review~


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